Tender Is The Night
by Mademoiselle Non
Summary: What would happen if suddenly you'd find yourself in a strange new world? What would happen if you didn't speak the language or know the customs? Would you even survive?
1. Chapter I

**Author's Note:**

_Tender Is The Night_ was written as a challenge. What if a normal girl was sucked into Middle-earth? What would happen to her for she wouldn't be speaking the language and obviously wouldn't be understood. What if this would happen to one of us? How would we behave? 

This story was initially titled _What Dreams May Come_. After some thought, I decided that it was not exactly the title I was looking for and so renamed it _Tender Is The Night_. Incidentally, I am aware of the fact that two of my stories share the same titles with F.Scott Fitzgerald's well-known works. It was not intentional but I find it a bit amusing. **  
**

**Tender Is The Night**

Chapter I

The living room did not look cozy. None of the lights were on and the meager heat supplied from various radiators had altogether abandoned the spacious room. The autumn night outside the huge first floor windows appeared even colder and unwelcoming. A streetlight shyly filtered through the curtain but did little to illuminate the vast space. The television was turned on but the image was frozen. It bathed the room in a weak glow and this coupled with the streetlight, gave the entire room a decidedly eerie appearance.

Claudia's head felt as though it would split open. Taking a day off from work obviously had not done much for her migraines, neither had her new painkillers. She whimpered softly, wanting to sink back into the warm couch and back into forgetfulness. However, it was not meant to be. The phone rang, its shrillness disrupting the quiet of the room and making Claudia's migraine take another vicious stab at her long suffering skull.

Feeling her knees begin to shake and having a sense that she would collapse if she didn't sit down soon; Claudia crawled over to the phone, cursing its inventor Alexander Graham Bell under her breath. Reaching the phone seemed an impossible odyssey and its non-stop ringing resounded in Claudia's head painfully. She reached for the receiver and growled a very unamused "hello". There was no response. The caller had either given up or perhaps it had been kids prank calling.

Claudia almost cried. She hated feeling so weak and hated what the pain reduced her to. This occasion seemed to be the last straw for her already frustrated self.

_'If the world had decided to make it a "Let's bug Claudia" day, then the honoree would retire to her bed and disappoint everyone!' _ Claudia smiled at her melodramatic thoughts.

She felt she was acting like one of Jane Austen's least likable heroines: the ones who constantly cried, whined and were rather similar to Lydia Bennett. Nevertheless, the distraction did not work. The migraine was here to stay and intended to prove it. Another quick stab of pain and Claudia decided that she would infinitely prefer giving birth or having insane cramps instead of having to deal with the pounding timpani in her head.

Claudia wished she were at her own apartment, where she knew exactly where everything was. "House-sitting" for her parents, albeit a house or actually an apartment, where she had grown up, was not turning out to be a picnic. Everything was different and Claudia had forgotten how big the whole place was. Her parents' house was welcoming during daytime but became dangerously unfamiliar at night. Claudia never felt very comfortable in it and she moved out weeks after her 20th birthday into a small apartment. Standing around wasn't going to bring her any relief and so the hunt for the painkillers was on.

Slowly, very slowly she made her way towards the stairs, inching her way across the room. The darkness was welcoming and calm, soft against Claudia's flushed skin. Climbing the stairs slowly, one at a time like an old woman instead of a youthful twenty three year old, Claudia finally made it up to the second floor. Now all she had to do was find the blessed bottle of painkillers and crawl over to something soft.

She took a few searching steps in the dark and suddenly tripped over something. Claudia was sure she had come within inches of almost breaking her neck, making her migraine seem quite insignificant in comparison. Instinctively reaching down to see what had almost caused her untimely demise, she grabbed something.

_'A book! Who the devil left books lying around where anyone could stumble to death over them'_ she mused with annoyance.

The answer found her almost at the same time as she thought of the question. Her brother, Erik, who else? Clutching the book, though for the life of her, Claudia could not explain why, she made her way to her mother's bedroom, hoping to find the pills on her bedroom table.

She lucked out for once. There they were, a comforting small white bottle sitting happily next to a powder puff and an almost-empty bottle of Chanel No. 5. Mme Aurel often imagined her illnesses to be a lot more serious than they actually were. Her migraines, however, were not of the imaginary sort. They had plagued the mother since childhood and were now passed on to the daughter. Grabbing the bottle as a life-saver, Claudia shook two pills out into her hand and greedily gulped them down. She was trembling with the effort of coming upstairs and the imposing size of her mother's bed beckoned to her aching and exhausted body.

Nevertheless, the darkness that seemed so comforting downstairs, took on a somewhat oppressing air up here. Claudia groped around for a light switch on the bedside lamp. When she was successful, a soft light flooded the room. Claudia looked down, still wondering why she was holding her little brother's book. Bringing it closer to her eyes, she read the title. "Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King". Claudia would have rolled her eyes but the migraine was still ruling the roost and so that possibility was out of the question.

The book fell to the floor, Claudia's hand went limp. Her eyes fluttered open once more and then she finally gave over to the oblivion she'd been searching for ever since her head started pounding early that morning. She slept...


	2. Chapter II

**Tender Is The Night**

Chapter II**  
**

The sunlight danced on the young woman's face. She did not seem to appreciate the effort and promptly turned over. Feeling uncomfortable and cold, Claudia tried to find something warm to cuddle under without having to open her eyes. Not finding the afghan, she opened her eyes, scowling

The sun promptly made its appearance known and attacked with a vengeance. Claudia yelped and covered her eyes but not before she saw green. A lot of green. Too much green. What happened to her mother's bedroom? Blaming her mother's painkillers for making her hallucinate, Claudia cautiously peeked out from behind her hands. This was not possible. It was absurd. She will never take her mother's painkillers again. Not even if her life depended on it. How the hell did she end up outside? Claudia did not sleep walk. At least not that she knew of. Why was she now in a garden outside her house? Wait! Where was her house? Claudia gasped and shut her eyes very tightly. This was not happening. She was delusional. How could she not see her house? Claudia slowly counted to ten and then opened her eyes again. The house did not make an appearance. Claudia slowly turned around, fighting to control her hyperventilating.

"Breathe," she muttered. "Keep breathing. You are fine!" Strangely enough, however, Claudia did not particularly believe herself. Where was she and how did she end up there? What happened? She whimpered and sank to the ground, curling in a fetal position and willing herself to become invisible.

"Think," she urged herself. "Don't panic. For God's sake, don't panic. Not yet! Just think! What did you do last night?" Claudia remembered the head shattering pain, she remembered almost killing herself on the steps, she remembered her brother's book and she remembered passing out. At no point did she remember going outside for a midnight stroll and falling asleep in a park and wait a minute... Why was everything green? Last time she checked it was October. Since when were trees green in October?

Claudia smiled. It was very obvious, really. The painkillers were still affecting her. This was all a dream. A very vivid one but a dream, nonetheless. Those were some strong painkillers. She could even smell the air: warm and fragrant with a scent Claudia could not describe. It reminded her of something but she could not put her finger on it. Turning her face to the sun, Claudia noticed that her migraine was gone. Another miracle of the painkillers. She did not like the sun much. Her migraines made her very sensitive to the sunlight but now she was enjoying it despite herself.

Deciding to enjoy her dream while it lasted, Claudia got up and decided to explore this new place. After all, the weather was lovely. Besides, not taking advantage of those painkillers would be a crime, Claudia reasoned. She will wake up in her mother's bedroom quite soon but for now she will enjoy herself.

Claudia did not walk more than ten feet, breathing the sweet air and taking in the beauty of her surroundings when she heard voices. What fun! She had people in her dream. Claudia giggled and walked towards where she thought the voices were coming from. Perhaps they could tell her what month it was in her dream. She tried but could not figure out what language they were talking in. It sounded like baby talk and Claudia hoped they spoke at least some English. The voices grew louder when suddenly there was a loud _crack_! Claudia froze and looked down. There! She'd stepped on a dry twig. The voices fell silent. Claudia decided that it would be better to announce her presence just in case. Her dreams tended to resemble action movies at times and she was enjoying this one too much to suddenly realize that she was a spy running away from enemy agents.

"I beg your pardon but could you tell me what da-" Claudia had gotten out that much when an arrow whizzed by and struck the tree, inches away from her nose. Claudia screamed and instantly decided that she did not like this dream. She did not want to deal with psychopaths, who toted about bows and arrows. Turning around Claudia got ready to run when a volley of arrows told her that running was no longer an option.

Diving to the ground, Claudia screamed for dear life. This dream was no longer fun, damn it! She wanted to wake up at home. Why wasn't she waking up?

Suddenly Claudia realized that the arrows ceased falling. This would have been a perfect opportunity for her to run had it not been for something heavy on her back. Feeling as if all breath was getting squeezed out of her, Claudia suddenly felt herself being flipped over. Though there was nothing keeping her down any longer but she found herself simply unable to move.

The captor did not seem to be very happy about this situation. He bent down to her eye level, disgust clearly written on his face. He was looking at Claudia as he would probably look at something that was on the sole of his heavy boot. Snapping something in that odd baby language, he drew a dagger.

The poor girl shut her eyes. She did not want to see how it would all happen. She remembered reading somewhere that if you died in your dream, you died in real life as well. This was it, then! Claudia wanted to wake up. She wanted to wake up now!

"Please, God," she whispered. "Please let me go back home. Please don't let this happen." Concentrating with all her might on her mother's bedroom, Claudia wished to be there with all her heart. Cracking open one eye, she resignedly saw that she was still lying on her back with an avenging psychopath towering above her. The expression of disgust on his face intensified if that were even possible. He did not even seem to view Claudia as human. Nevertheless, someone else did for another hand grabbed the dagger, softly arguing his case. Judging by the tone of their voices, the two disagreed entirely. Claudia did not particularly care what her temporary savior was saying as long as she did not die.

Her luck seemed to have run out when the dagger once again appeared much too close to her face. The speech became even more rapid and suddenly the dagger disappeared. Apparently, the other speaker had this lunatic convinced. Claudia did not have time to feel relieved when her rescuer grabbed her none too gently, hauling her up to her feet.

Claudia's knees buckled and she found herself unable to stand straight. Leaning heavily on the man for support, the girl clenched her teeth and willed herself not to throw up. She felt him pull away. If at all possible, his expression seemed to outdo his counterpart's in disgust. But wait...This was her would-be assassin, wasn't he? She thought he had gone… Yes, there he was, carrying something but then the man holding her… Good grief, they were identical.

The assassin held out something to the one supporting Claudia. The latter grabbed it and brought it to Claudia's lips. The girl vehemently shook her head: she was not going to drink it. She was not going to be poisoned!

Twisting madly, Claudia started trying to get her captor to loosen his vice-like grip. Kicking out like mad she apparently connected with something when he growled something in pain, letting her go. Grabbing her by the hair, the more homicidal twin tilted Claudia's head back and pinched her arm, forcing her to scream out in pain. His brother wasted no time in pouring the burning liquid down her throat.

Claudia gasped and gagged, going limp in his arms. Feeling no resistance from her, the tall man relaxed when Claudia lashed out and bit his arm, which was still tight around her throat. Sinking her teeth in deeper and deeper, his scream of pain and rage definitely beat his brother's. Claudia turned, ready to run when a heavy blow to her head brought her to her knees. The trees turned gray, then green again. There were suddenly two suns...

Sinking into the ground as if it was wet sand, Claudia took one last look at her attackers. Why did they do this to her? Feeling her throat closing in, Claudia twisted, her body jerking spasmodically. Feeling no strength in the lower part of her body, the numbness beginning to spread to her neck, Claudia felt something hot and salty course down her face.

"So this is what death feels like," was her last thought before darkness covered the faces of her two attackers and their identical scowls.


	3. Chapter III

** Author's Note:**

I apologize for the delay. I don't have an outline for the story and every chapter that I write is very spur of the moment. Unfortunately, that inspiration tends to disappear for some time. There may be mistakes. In fact, I am certain there will be. I do not have a beta and am desperately in need of one. So far I've not been able to find one so if anyone would like to volunteer, I'll adore you forever.

I'm rather big on canon but I really did love the movies as well. I'll do my best to reconcile the two. Let's see what you'll make of it.

My Sindarin, or rather lack thereof, is courtesy of Hiswelókë. **Thank you!** If it's messed up, it's my fault.

To my reviewers, _thank you!!_ And now without further ado...

_****_

Tender Is The Night

Chapter III

Darkness once again surrounded Claudia, cosseting her like a mother her infant. The young woman lay still, her normally pale skin, now a disturbing shade of sickly yellow. She was no longer in the forest but in a tiny place with no windows, full of mysterious sounds one did not really want to know the nature of. Her cell resembled a very large coffin, which seemed to suit Claudia's lifeless form.

The room's deathly silence was shattered by the soft clanking of a raised bolt, followed by the sound of keys. The door opened softly as though not wanting to wake the prisoner. A dark silhouette was framed by the bright light outside, making him look somehow sinister. He slowly approached the girl, tension apparent in each step. Bending over Claudia, he had to strain his hearing to hear soft breathing, so quiet it was almost nonexistent. A frown marked his face.

'_Who in the name of all that is sacred is this being_,' he thought, not finding an answer that satisfied him. She was clearly not one of his people. Perhaps she was one of those dark peoples further South but her face was much too pale and smooth to come from the land of the bright sun. The harsh language that she spoke made him cringe inside, not sounding like anything he had ever heard before. Who was she? That question plagued him and his brother ever since they had brought her from the woods, alerting their father and his advisers about a possible spy of the Enemy.

A wry smile twisted the lips of an otherwise handsome older son of the Lord of Imladris. Could it be that the Enemy was failing and recruiting those who could not defend themselves and carried no weapons? He shook his head.

'_We cannot underestimate him. Too many mistakes were made; the War is now unavoidable_!' Elladan's musings turned bleak as he carefully looked over the sleeping girl, who was so near to leaving the circles of the World. She should have been awake by now. The draught that she was given was meant to merely sedate her. Yet, when she had tried to escape, Elrohir was very enthusiastic in taking revenge for an abused shin and landing a blow that made his brother wince. His younger brother was not known for his patience and the nightmare, which began seizing their beloved world once again, made one see enemies behind every tree in the land.

Elladan rose and walked towards the door. The girl would have to be awakened somehow. His father was more than capable of bringing her back to this life. She had to be questioned… Another frown, darker than the first crossed his forehead and at that moment Elladan looked truly the Elf his enemies dreaded: like a son of Elbereth, who would not hesitate to kill anything or anyone, who could harm his world in any possible way.

Elrond stood in the Hall of Fire, remembering the mirth of last night. The Hall had been full of Elves and some rather confused Hobbits. One of them was decidedly surprised that so much was being done in his honor. Peredhil smiled; the nephew and his uncle were quite similar after all. Turning his back towards the flame, Elrond measured the Hall with his footsteps. Peace reigned in Imladris but he knew with the certainty of one who had seen more than an age that it was but a brief pause before chaos once again tried to triumph. The time for decisions was fast approaching – the Council would gather that very day. Coming to a stop and standing so still he seemed to be cast from marble, Elrond closed his eyes. So many years had passed and nothing had changed after all.

When his older son strode into the Hall, Elrond raised his weary head, welcoming his son's formal obeisance.

Rapid-fire Sindarin filled the room and had Claudia been there, she would have no longer thought of this language as child-like. The dangerous undertones made it seem like a separate presence; the language of the Teleri, the Sindar, the Firstborn.

"She is still not awake, Father, and your help is needed," argued Elladan. "Perhaps she is not used to the draughts of our people or perhaps it is my brother's blow that is affecting her awakening. Your help is needed." He was failing to persuade Elrond of seeing to the girl as soon as possible. His father refused to help the girl with far more urgent matters deciding the fate of Middle-earth awaiting him in a matter of hours.

"Elladan, you are not being reasonable. My son, it matters not if she lives or dies. In truth, death would be infinitely more preferable. A strange maiden appears in the forest and you still want to make sure she lives."

"I cannot see how she could be the Enemy's servant, _Ada_. What maiden approaches two armed Elves, carrying no weapons and hailing them in a strange language? Had she been truly Sauron's ally, she would have at least learned some stealth from her Master. Heal her, Father. Let us question her. Let us know the truth."

Elladan's persistence wore Elrond down at last. Following his son to the deep recesses of the Last Homely House, Elrond thought about yesterday, when his sons arrived, galloping madly, a limp body before Elladan. Peredhil almost felt his heart stop. Who fell to a blasted _yrch_ arrow? His mind immediately thought of his daughter for Arwen often rode out with her brothers. The body on Elladan's horse resembled his daughter from a distance; long dark hair, pale skin, a tall, slim shape. It was only when his older son jumped off his steed and gathering the lifeless female, presented her unceremoniously to his father by dumping her on the floor, that Elrond realized this stranger was a far cry from Arwen Undómiel.

The girl looked very ill, her skin bearing a tinge of yellow that would only intensify later on. She was drawing in labored breaths, each one raspier than the last. Her hands and bare legs were covered in bruises and scratches. Long black hair was unbound and decorated with dead leaves as if she were crowned with a funereal wreath. The girl's long and once white shift looked especially appropriate as a color of mourning.

Trying to understand what had happened from his sons' jumbled explanations, Elrond was torn between pity for this pathetic creature and a desire to hurt someone, who was in the service of the abhorred Maya. He could not read her thoughts. It was as if a wall guarded the child's mind, which only furthered his suspicion that she was indeed Sauron's servant.

Entering the damp cell, Elrond saw the girl, lying stiffly on the floor. His son was right: she did look like she was going to leave their world at any moment. Kneeling by her, he concentrated on her small face, willing her to remain with them. Elrond was not aware of how long he spent kneeling beside her immobile form but when she finally gasped and drew in a shaking breath, he felt as if a lifetime had passed. It was as if she did not want to come back, preferring endless wandering to the fate that awaited her here. Elrond could not blame her.

Claudia blearily opened her eyes, not able to focus in the dark.

"Still alive then," she whimpered. That seemed to drain her of whatever little energy that remained in her body and her head fell back yet again.

Elrond faced his son, eloquently raising one eyebrow. He was not able to make any more sense from the girl's slurred speech than his sons.

"Take her to one of the drier rooms, my son," murmured the Lord of Imladris. "I can do no more here. Perhaps Mithrandir shall have more luck in seeing what her thoughts are." Elladan nodded and bowed as his father left the cell.

'I will learn who you are, _thinn sell._ And when I do, may Elbereth herself turn away from you if I prove to be right."

Elladan picked up Claudia's slight form with ease and left the cell, his fast pace burdened with his thoughts though the slight weight of the girl added an entirely different burden altogether.

---

_- pale (or gray) maiden. Elladan is not complimenting Claudia, far from it. _


End file.
